


Empty

by llcflms



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Gen, idk what this was tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:08:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25140646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/llcflms/pseuds/llcflms
Summary: Touka drabble following the Aogiri Raid.
Relationships: Kaneki Ken | Sasaki Haise & Kirishima Touka, Kirishima Ayato & Kirishima Touka
Kudos: 5





	Empty

**Author's Note:**

> This was also the fic for Kirishima Week 2017 Day 1 (Touka).

Even though it feels like nothing has changed, everything has changed. Her room is as it always is. Her collection of rabbit plushies remains cuddled on the top of her shelf. Her table remains cluttered with notes, books and stationery. Her closet is still filled with her clothes. Her bed is still dressed in its rabbit-themed covers. Outside is as cold as any winter night—the snow continues to fall and the wind continues to blow.

But Touka knows nothing will ever be the same again. Once again, her entire world had taken a drastic turn. Life is never simply a straight route for her. It’s a steep path that climbs towards the sun, only for a sudden drop to appear from which there is no escape. She’s back in the abyss, starting the next climb once again— slowly, desperately, gathering the remaining pieces of her life back. When she stares at them, she realises there’s nothing much left. But even then, she hugs the residue, holding them tightly to her chest, trying her best to never let go. At least, for once, let things not go wrong again— let the cycle break.

Her fingers fiddle with the metal band, running one slowly against the indent. She feels the English carving against her fingers and she recites it out in her heart.

_Arata. Hikari._

_Father. Mother._

The recitation goes on, a mantra being chanted by the most desperate devotee. It’s not enough to get her anything. This time, she can’t even feel the usual solace. All she conjures are mental images, intangible and distant. She sees her parents’ solemn face and it’s such an ugly sight– for usual happy faces to be marred by frowns.

“I… I’m sorry…” she whispers and she wonders who she’s apologising to.

Her parents, for failing them and their expectations? _No._

Ayato, for never understanding him enough? _No._

Kaneki, for never being able to support him? _No._

To herself, perhaps, for letting everyone go and always digging her own grave deeper and deeper.

She wants to cry but she holds it in. She has to stay strong even when she’s at her worst. It’s just how things are— now, especially now, out of all times is the worst time to show weakness. But even though she knows this, deep within, she’s screaming at herself not to care. How is she supposed to be okay when she’s rotting, even more than those two idiots are out there?

What kind of stupid brother leaves his only family to join an organization like that? What kind of friend would leave her out of a war he’s waging for her own kind? They’re idiots— idiots she would want to pull into an embrace and never let go again.

_No._

Why couldn’t she just have said no? No, when Ayato wanted to leave home— he’s too young, too immature; it’s not safe. No, when Kaneki wanted to go off on her own— he’s still not strong enough yet; she can help. She hates how she committed the same mistake from long ago. Months of cursing herself for letting Ayato go had completely gone to waste; she had repeated the same thing with Kaneki. Just why can’t she learn from her mistakes?

_Save them._

She wants to tell them to stop— to stop ruining themselves from all that fighting. It doesn’t matter anymore. _Just come back to me; just come home._ But it’s obvious that’s impossible— when’s the next time she’d even get to see them? Will she even get to see them again? 

She pulls the cover over her curled body, burying her face into it. She can’t do anything, she admits, aside from worrying and fretting, wishing they are okay and crying to herself in the dead of the night.

“Fuck. Fuck them. Just go and die. I hate you.”

Empty words. Empty curses.

Perhaps from an even emptier heart.

**Author's Note:**

> I think I was really busy so it's pretty short and meh.


End file.
